The Hoard

My fabric stash and I recently had a chat about the Meaning of Life. It was impromptu–all right, it was an intervention. She cornered me in my den and threatened me with death by asphyxiation under a mountain of cotton.

An early Purge Pile, plus a Frances

She is not enormous by First World standards, which is to say that if it were all sewn up, I could clothe an extended family, but not a village. Still, when seen in those terms, it is clearly excessive.

Stash: Please tell me you are not adding to me today.

Me: What? No, no … just these two fat quarters for that quilt I’m planning, and this metre of cream bamboo jersey Frances has been asking for.

Stash. You are adding to me today.

Me: Well, ok, but such a small purchase hardly counts.

Stash: Look at me.

Me: I am looking at you. I’m trying to find a place to put these.

Stash: Get your hands off me, back up a few paces, and look.

I did.

The three large storage bins in the closet were full: of scraps for muslins, large pieces of specialty fabrics like faux fur and chennille, and various kinds of battings. The three hanging storage units were also full: of quilting cottons, shirtings, wools, corduroy, silks. Pieces of suede and leather covered the top of the dresser. The green storage bin for Christmas fabrics was not entirely full, but close. The closet shelf was stacked with linings.

The spare office chair was piled high with impulse summer purchases. And worse, the floor–Dear Readers, the floor had three large fabric piles; pieces that there was no closet, bin or chair room for.

Me: Well, I admit that this is a little bigger than it needs to be.

Stash: A little?

Me: But I have plans for all of it. It’ll all get used.

Stash: I’m sure by sometime in 2043, most of it will have been used for something. But you have pieces of fabric in me that you have been keeping for particular projects for fifteen years.

These quilted coasters have been made partially from coordinating cottons bought because they looked pretty together. The reverse is scraps from a cotton robe project.

Me: I’ll get to it!

It sighed. I swear to god. Large piles of fabric can be remarkably expressive when they want to be.

Stash: Listen–you have a problem. It’s like you’re a dragon or something …

Me: This will be interesting.

Stash: … only you hoard fabric instead of gold and gems. Like one of those survivalists who turns their bank accounts into gold bars, only you’re fixated on fabric. If the global economy collapses next year, at least you and your daughter will be well-clothed! Or like you are anticipating the zombie apocalypse and you think you are going to beat them off with homemade shirts. The world is going to hell, but that’s all right, because you’re equipped to construct a 20-foot-high wall of security blankets.

Me: Are you done?

Stash. Yes. I am done. I am DONE. Done with endless growth at the expense of other goals and priorities. Where the hell are you going to put your daughter’s new desk with this mess? Hmm? And you want to add more?

Underneath the coasters are appliqued tea-towels-in-progress. The white waffle fabric was bought for tea towels I don’t even know how many years ago. I also bought red linen for tea towels, scraps here included for the appliques on the white–I bought that red fabric two houses ago. And have carried it with me ever since. Sad.

Me: I think you’re catastrophizing a little bit.

Stash: You have no need for new clothes and enough clothing fabric to construct an entire new wardrobe for all four seasons. You’ve needed to replace your bicycle for three years, but you can’t because your money ends up all being invested in the fibres market.

Me: I see your point. A stash diet may be in order.

Stash: This goes beyond the need for a minor diet. It’s time to stop. Just stop.

[pause]

Me, meekly: Until when?

Stash: Until I can fit comfortably in the closet with room to add new fabrics.

The laminated cotton on the bottom part of this bag was bought–to make bags with–two years ago. But then it was never time to make bags because there were always clothes to make instead. The cotton on top of the bag was bought to coordinate with a pink-and-green print I have since given away.

Me: But what if there’s a really good sale and I …

Stash: NO!

So here we are. I’m a little frightened of what she might do to me if I fail to comply.

I pulled enough fabric out of the stash to get rid of the floor piles, and moved it down to the dining table. I then started a list of things that could be made out of it:

Heavy-duty tote bags (at least two, pictured above)

Outdoor seating cushions

Book tote bags (at least one)

Mid-weight patchwork tote bags (at least two, pictured below)

Approximately 8 appliqued tea towels (some pictured above)

Quilted coasters in a quantity yet to be specified but sure to be terrifying (12 so far, pictured above)

Yet Another Drapey Jersey Shirt (you haven’t seen the first one yet, but just take my word for it)

Fleece pants muslin for Frances

Potentially some dolls or stuffed toys

Mid-weight patchwork tote bags. The prints used for the patchwork were all so adorable, and what’s a fat quarter between friends? The pink linen forming the bulk of the bag was bought to make a purse with. After making two large patchwork tote bags, I still have more than enough left for the purse.

I’ve been cutting, sewing and pressing furiously. The stack of in-progress and completed projects is growing. The purge pile, alas, has yet to appear noticeably smaller, and there is a substantial pile of fabric still to be put into a project. It is rather depressing as well as embarrassing. How the hell did it get this out of control?

So questions for you, to further impose of those of you kind enough to have actually read this whole thing:

1. Do you any of you know of any legitimate organizations with legitimate needs for these? I’m not a big fan of the “let’s give our garbage to Deserving Unfortunates and pretend it’s charity” trend. It’s crazy making for me when people try to foist their crap on me and act like they’re doing me a favour, and I can’t imagine that this would be different if I were poor. (Do you want this elliptical machine? It’s totally fine except a ball bearing broke. You’d have to get it fixed. I know you already have an elliptical machine that is better than this one and that works, but still, I think this would be a really great deal for you! No? How about this broken TV?) Please believe me when I say that sick children do not want a handmade teddy bear from a stranger, hospitalized children do not feel better when they put their heads on pillowcases made from quilting cotton, and third-world children probably do not need garish and overly-flounced party dresses made by a well-intentioned lady with an overgrown fabric stash. In all these cases, cash donations to relevant organizations are much more welcome and actually helpful to the populations in question.

Tea Cozy the First. Tula Pink fabric bought to make an apron for a friend many years ago. I ended up with an extra metre of fabric, and of course I couldn’t let it go…

However, if anyone knows of people actually asking for relevant donations, I’d be happy to do so. (By which I mean, just to be 100% clear, not organizations that are asking for these donations without having consulted with the target populations to get their input on what would be really useful and helpful, but organizations where the targeted population has, of their own accord, asked for the items in question.) (In other words, I don’t want to transform my stash problem into someone else’s problem.)

2. Are there project types I’m overlooking? I can only make so many tote bags and coasters. I mean, I could make hundreds if I had to, but what on earth am I going to do with them all?

3. No, I am not going to sell them.

4. However if any of this sounds like something any of you might like, and you don’t live too far away, I’d happily give you one (or more). And if you actually want part of my godforsaken (and mouthy) stash, that might be arranged. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. It has opinions.

22 thoughts on “The Hoard”

The sensible reasons why I shouldn’t force any more fabric into my own obese stash, bursting out of it’s cabinet and now piling up on the floor, do not move me much. The thought that I’m substituting shopping for sewing to protect myself from wadders gives me pause.

On another blog recently, I heard that Goodwill will take bags of fabric scraps to be shredded & recycled into insulation.

I’ll definitely donate scraps to goodwill–I’d hate to do that with the yardage, though. It should have at least some brief life as a finished object before it gets shredded.

Thank you for the compliment. (Or rather, the Stash thanks you.) I can’t speak for anyone else’s motivations in amassing an ever growing pile of fabric, but I know I shop more when I’m anxious or stressed out. And it’s always fabric or books. Books at least I read in a couple of months, 99% of the time, but the fabric can sit there for years. (sigh)

I just went through this process two weeks ago. In fact, it always seems like I’m going through this process. I spontaneously sewed a baby quilt as soon as I’d finished the big sort because I was so eager to use up some scraps. The best options I’ve found for reducing the stash without actually sewing up the fabric are: 1. donating decent yardage to Goodwill – I’ve noticed the yardage and sewing sections are expanding and I’m not the only one shopping them 2. finding a creative reuse organization near you and 3. finding a textile recycle drop-off for larger scraps. I’ve also seen people do successful instagram de-stash sales. The only real success I’ve had limiting my stash is setting a physical boundary around it and trying to only buy fabrics for my current project. The first one is easier than the second 🙂

I think, given that I had fabric piles multiplying on floors and chairs, that I pretty well failed the “physical boundary” method too. 😉

But I have to say that the very daunting site of large piles of fabric on my dining table which I must sew up before I buy any more is doing wonders to curb any appetite for new purchases. Maybe the time and effort required to sew through it all will effect a more permanent (or at least long-lasting) change.

I DO enjoy having a stash and shop my stash quite often. I was so grateful for my extended stash when I was unemployed. I sewed SO many things!

But I have a lot. Too much. But I don’t have real storage limitations yet. I want to downsize soon after my kids come of age and I want to get to a point where I have a closet/shelving system/something that contains my stash. And maybe 1 or 2 bins for special stuff.

Already making caveats…sigh! 🙂

I have a lot (almost 600) patterns and tried to sell some. It’s too much work. I can’t imagine selling fabric. I know when I destashed yarn it was a headache. People like the price until you add shipping.

I enjoy having a stash too, and it is nice to know that there is fabric there for emergencies (ahem), but how many emergencies do I need to stock up for? It got to the point where it was depressing me just thinking about it. Which is a good sign that it’s grown beyond any useful point for me.

I think I need to just keep reminding myself that there will be nice fabric available in the future. I do not need to stock up against a fabric-apocalypse.

I loved this post. My stash isn’t unmanageable yet, but it’s definitely growing faster than I can keep up with. Thanks for talking about yours!
In San Francisco we have a charity that creates quilts and other items out of donated fabrics for hospitals, veterans, and anyone that might make use of a handmade blanket. It looks like Project Linus has a similar mandate, and their front page suggests they are happy to accept donated fabric. http://projectlinuscanada.org/
I really like some of your stash busters. The little coasters and tea cozy are adorable, and it’s always nice to have a few tote/grocery/laundry bags!

At least your Stash only threatens to attack, mine literally has – fallen out of the shelves on top of me, and laid waiting on the floor to trip me, laid on top of items I *know* I just saw to make me question my sanity, etc.

As to organizations – I don’t know of any small ones near you, However I do know of a local church group who takes fabric donations to make quilts to donate to shelters. Perhaps there’s something similar where you live? Also, at one time, someone accepted scraps to make animal beds for shelters – I think I read about her on Pattern Review or Stitcher’s Guild. What about someone who makes Quilts of Valor – perhaps if you have an excess of red/white/blue quilting fabrics? Or the Million Pillowcase charity (again – probably only for quilting fabrics).
When it comes to garment fabrics, I can only think of perhaps a school with a music/arts department for use in costumes.

If you have a lot of red, the Red Scarf Project might be good, if you’d like to do a project.

But to donate, I was wondering if your local middle school or high school does Home Economics (it’s actually called Family Life Education here, my son is taking it). They tend to need fabrics because they teach sewing.

That’s a good point. I don’t think they do home ec anymore in middle school–I haven’t heard of this happening in Frances’s school at least–but I’ll check out the local high school and see what’s up there.

I’ll always take your quilting cotton. I see you have good stuff in there. 😀 I’m a true patchworker, I rather work with 100 different fabrics than 4.
I wish you well on the fabric diet. It’s a toughie. It is a habit acquired over years and very hard to break.

It’s my untested belief that expertise in any technical field will result in a near-total loss of respect for journalism.

I know it did for me. The more I learned about climate change, the biodiversity crisis, environmental regulations, and renewable energy, the more I realized that newspaper articles reflected reality only by chance, in passing. More often, an ill-equipped person with good writing skills and no critical thinking ability would write a piece far outside of their education and background by interviewing a bunch of people who claimed to be experts, without evaluating their credentials. We get climate change pieces giving equal weight to well-respected international climate experts and oil-funded PR hacks, pieces on renewable energy with well-reasoned arguments by scientists quoting the best available information and fruit-loop arguments by naturopaths who wouldn’t recognize a herz if it came up and hit them on the head.

And you end up with a voting public almost completely muddled on key issues because they’ve come to the completely totally 100% incontrovertibly WRONG conclusion that there are two sides.

Of course people are entitled to their opinions. I am legally well within my rights to believe that Mars is peopled by winged skeletons who worship Lily Allen. But the legal right to hold an opinion is not the same, and can’t be the same, as the attitude that reality is then required to bend to accommodate that opinion. No matter what I believe, Mars is in fact NOT peopled by winged skeletons who worship Lily Allen, or by anything at all. The experts are right and I am just plain wrong. (Or I would be, if I held that opinion.)

This set of science experiments sheds some light on the psychology of our inherent tendency to give equal weight to two contrary opinions, even when one comes from an expert and the other does not. Fortunately, for those of you who have no intention of purchasing the article for the low-low price of $10, you can also read this fun summation in the Washington Post.

This went on for 256 intervals, so the two individuals got to know each other quite well — and to know one another’s accuracy and skill quite well. Thus, if one member of the group was better than the other, both would pretty clearly notice. And a rational decision, you might think, would be for the less accurate group member to begin to favor the views of the more accurate one — and for the accurate one to favor his or her own assessments.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, report the study authors, “the worse members of each dyad underweighted their partner’s opinion (i.e., assigned less weight to their partner’s opinion than recommended by the optimal model), whereas the better members of each dyad overweighted their partner’s opinion.” Or to put it more bluntly, individuals tended to act “as if they were as good or as bad as their partner” — even when they quite obviously weren’t.

The researchers tried several variations on the experiment, and this “equality bias” didn’t go away. In one case, a “running score” reminded both members of the pair who was faring better (and who worse) at identifying the target — just in case it wasn’t obvious enough already. In another case, the task became much more difficult for one group member than the other, leading to a bigger gap in scores — accentuating differences in performance. And finally, in a third variant, actual money was offered for getting it right.

None of this did away with the “equality bias.”

The research psychologists attribute this to our need to belong to groups and get along with people. It seems that need outweighs any practical consideration, a good deal of the time, including when money is on the line. Fascinating, right? People who are right and know they’re right defer to people they know are wrong in order to get along and maintain group dynamics, even when it costs them to do so.

When it comes to climate change, this is a serious problem.

Aside: Climate change is a real thing that is really happening and is a complete and total catastrophe. There is no debate on this point in any credible scientific circle. If you think that there is, I’m so sorry, but you’ve been had.

/aside

We end up not moving forward with policy solutions because we keep acting like the actual experts and the paid non-expert hacks share some kind of equivalence when they patently don’t.

But–and I’m sure I’m not the only person thinking this–it’s present in every community, including the SBC.

Ah! See? I told you I’d come around to it.

People act as if the opinions and contributions of experts and amateurs are equivalent when they are not.

Thankfully, the fates of human civilization and a minimum of 30% of animal and plant species do not rest on this fact. The worst that happens in most cases is that a person walks around for a good long time in a garment that looks like utter shit and feels really fabulous about it. On a scale of worldwide catastrophe, it doesn’t even rank.

On the other hand, as this science makes pretty clear, an entire generation of sewers are being educated largely by internet celebrities who are too incompetent even to understand how incompetent they are. It’s not a catastrophe, no, but it is a crying shame. And as predicted by the social psychologists, if anyone ever speaks up to point out that some of them are experts and other are, well … not …, they are pilloried as Mean Girls, jelluz haterz, and bullies.

Aside 2: Yep, I count myself in the group of people sometimes wandering happily about in a garment that on later reflection was not up to snuff. It happens. We’re all human. I won’t melt if someone points it out, though tact is always preferred. It doesn’t count as “bravery” to “put yourself out there” if you feel entitled to nothing but praise; and if you’re going to present your work in public you need to be prepared for public criticism.

/aside

So it’s not the end of the world, no, but it’s a detriment to all of us. The people getting the money, in many cases, haven’t earned it; the people with valuable skills to share don’t have the platform to do so; we keep acting as if everyone’s equal when they’re not to be Nice and keep everyone happy, even though not everyone is happy; there are entire boiling lava rivers of resentment and bitterness flowing right under all the green meadows we’re so happily skipping over (in our badly-pressed culottes and boxy tops with peter pan collars, no less). It’s weird. Can’t we, as an online culture, agree that it’s not a violation of the Geneva Convention if someone points out that a hem is crooked or a print isn’t matched? Does it matter if it’s not “nice”? Don’t we all benefit from increased honesty and openness? Do any of us actually expect to be perfect, or need to be treated as if we are perfect in order to function day to day? If you really don’t want people to point out how you fucked up, is it so much to ask that you acknowledge it yourself, then? Hey look at this horrible side seam–I really fucked up!

That went off on a bit of a tangent. Pardon me. Let’s drag it back on track:

The Equality Bias! It makes everything worse while we smile and pretend nothing’s wrong. Fight it!

Naomi’s political lens is so focused that it’s blinding. This is less a book about climate change than it is about why climate change is now the perfect excuse to do everything she’s always wanted to do anyway (eg. scrap globalization, redistribute wealth), which is fine, but she ignores any contrary evidence. For example, she has a brief section on the brief flourishing and untimely death of Ontario’s green energy economy, which she blames 100% on the WTO’s decision on domestic content. The waffling and delays of government regulators on applications, the constant changes in direction, and the dead-set-contrarian politics of the mostly rural ridings where wind energy projects were to be sited were completely overlooked, but as anyone who actually went through the process can tell you, the domestic content reg change was the least of any developer’s worries, and came after years and years of frustrations brought about by the public sector.

She spends a great deal of time criticizing anyone else whose political perspectives change how they perceive climate science and solutions, but is much, much worse herself in this book. No information penetrates unless it conforms with her pre-existing beliefs. But the global carbon cycle is not sentient. It doesn’t care how carbon emissions are reduced; it doesn’t even care if they are reduced at all. It does not vote and has no political preferences. WE do; and so it’s up to us to make some decisions about if and how we’re going to turn things around. It should be a mark of deep shame to any thinking citizen in a democratic society that authoritarian China is pulling so far ahead in the transition to a renewable economy.

The flaws with This Changes Everything can be boiled down to two, major, fundamental issues:

1. She acts as if the private and public spheres were diametric and opposed, rather than almost entirely overlapping. A person who works all day in a corporation then goes home and becomes a voter and consumer. People move back and forth between the private and public sector in terms of employment all the time. We are not talking about two different species–the private, evil homo sapiens determined to ruin the earth at a profit and the loving, public homo sapiens trying desperately to save it. It’s all just people.

2. The public sphere is as complicit in this as the private sphere. The reason we do not have a healthy, thriving renewable energy sector in Ontario right now is because the people of Ontario didn’t want it. They had it, and then put the politicians of the province under so much pressure to gut it that eventually they did to save their mandate. The moratorium on offshore wind projects in Ontario is a perfect example: two (small) corporations were all set to do the assessment work necessary to figure out if their Lake Ontario projects would work or not, but the government made offshore projects in Ontario illegal because the voters in Scarborough demanded it.

This is a terrible book on climate change. You’d be better off reading almost anything else on the subject.